#'remember when I spat on your grief and trauma and all of your most important life choices. and worked with you to try to fix it all only t
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@lemon-embalmer I need you to know that these tags made me laugh out loud. best most succinct description of her character in the world
#the entire end of her thieves guild questline and then a fair chunk of her time afterward is her systematically destroying everything#that she's built in this environment. and then going 'oh fuck I think I might want that back actually'#creating an obscene amount of work for herself to try to make up lost ground#'remember when I spat on your grief and trauma and all of your most important life choices. and worked with you to try to fix it all only t#tear it all from your grasp at the last second thus denying you any sense of satisfaction and catharsis'#'so I had one (1) moment of authentic self-reflection and realised that I don't think that was the best move for me. oops. so.#water under the bridge right'#'you did sell my soul so we kind of are bound together lifelong. that's on you man maybe you shouldn't have conned me'#she's my best friend :))) fuckin weirdo
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Goodnight My Someone
for @youaremyworldlois who inspired me with tags about promise rings and who probably expected something soft when I asked to steal the idea. Hopefully I disappoint in a good way❤️️
Warning: major character death, grief, etc
ao3
Alex Manes had always assumed he’d only have to live through three major losses in his life: his innocence, his grandmother, and his leg. He never ever imagined a life where Michael would die before him.
Yet here he was.
It was damn near impossible to keep his breathing in check as he collapsed at Michael’s side. They had, for some reason, waited to call him until they’d gotten Max stabilized, so by the time Alex arrived, Michael was laid out on the ground, naked and lifeless and covered in a coat of silver.
“No, no, no,” Alex whispered, taking in the sight of him. His body was limp in ways that made him feel sick, his jaw hanging open and his stomach dipping inward from the lack of breathing. He figured they didn’t have much time before rigor began and that was even worse.
Michael was gone. Really, really gone.
“It’s okay, Alex,” Isobel said softly. Vomit threatened to make an appearance at how calm she sounded. In fact, they were all calm. Michael was dead because he was stupidly self-sacrificial and they were all so fucking okay with it.
“It’s okay?” Alex parroted, looking at her with a level of hate he didn’t realize he could have for someone that he had grown to really enjoy. But she was okay with Michael being dead and bare on the fucking desert floor and he wasn’t okay with that. “Are you all insane? He-he’s dead. You called me and you told me he was dead and you didn’t even sound like it was that concerning. He… Do you not even care? Why don’t you care? Why aren’t you crying?”
Tears were unabashedly spilling from his eyes as he looked around to the people who seemed to hold more pity for Alex than they did for the man he loved. He could’ve killed them all with his bare hands at that moment. Michael gave his life so they could have Max and they couldn’t even spare him a few tears.
“There’s no reason for‒”
“Like hell there isn’t! Look at him!” Alex yelled, his voice cracking as he dared to turn back to Michael’s body. “Look at him.”
“This is temporary,” Isobel said sharply. Alex huffed a laugh as he shook his head. How could she say Michael dying was temporary? This was anything but temporary. “As soon as Max is better, we’re going to bring him back.”
“Why? So Max can die again? Is that it?” Alex scoffed, shaking his head at them. He didn’t understand why they weren’t being so careless about this. Michael was a person. A living, breathing, loving person who could no longer live or breathe or love. When Liz was hurt, there was panic. When Isobel was hurt, there was panic. When Max was hurt, there was panic.
Where was Michael’s panic?
“I got you,” Alex whispered, reaching to close his mouth so he looked a little less lifelessly. If his mouth was closed, then he could pretend he was sleeping.
But they didn’t want that.
“Don’t touch him,” Liz jumped in, her voice far too harsh to be talking to him. Alex’s face screwed up in further anger as he let his hand hover over his chest, his jaw quivering almost violently. “I’m serious, Alex. We don’t have much silver, if you mess it up it’ll make it harder to get him into the pod.”
“Who the fuck are you to tell me I can’t touch my boyfriend?” Alex spat.
“He’s not your boyfriend,” Maria shot back. When he turned to her, she looked to be the only one who was also a little upset about what was happening. Still, Alex glared at her. She didn’t get it. She didn’t have the rights to him, to his body. Michael was Alex’s, end of. They needed to stop making decisions for him when Alex was the only one who knew.
“He doesn’t want this,” Alex said, shaking his head as he went to close his mouth for real this time. Hands grabbed his shoulders before he could, pulling him away from Michael. “Let go of me! He doesn’t want this! He doesn’t want to be in that fucking pod!”
Alex was too weak with sobs to really fight back as Kyle and Liz pulled him away. They tugged him out of the cave completely, leaving him on the sand as he balled up and cried so hard it hurt. Liz went back into the cave, but Kyle crouched beside him.
“It’s going to be okay, Alex,” he said so sincerely that Alex wanted to strangle him. It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t going to be okay.
Michael was dead.
Things would never be okay.
-
”Alex. Alex, answer the door, please.”
Alex hesitated as his hand hovered over the doorknob, the sound of Michael’s voice on the other side of the wood. He hadn't been alone with him in months and he didn't know if he wanted to start now. He'd been nice, giving him space to be with Maria and not putting pressure on him. But it was midnight, the night before he would be bringing back Max, and he was at the door.
So Alex opened it.
"Can I come in?" Michael asked. His eyes were bloodshot and he was fidgeting badly, looking so broken. Alex didn't even consider saying no.
"You want anything to drink? Eat?" Alex offered, not knowing what else to do as they stood aimlessly in the middle of his living room. Michael sniffled, shaking his head.
"No, no, I just…" Michael looked around and something seemed to settle on his face when putting his attention back on Alex. “I want you.”
Alex took a startled step back. “What?”
“I need you,” Michael reiterated, his hands shaking and his eyes pooling. Alex didn’t know what to do, his hands hovering in between the two of them. He wanted so badly to comfort him and give into him as he’d wanted for the last few months, but he also knew that Michael had chosen Maria.
“You chose Maria,” Alex said allowed. Michael huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes.
“Alex, I… I need you. I’ll explain later, I just‒”
“No, explain now,” Alex urged softly even though he wished upon wishes that he could just accept whatever he was hearing at face value. But he couldn’t because that’s not who he was.
“Alex,” Michael said, his voice cracking as he looked at him with a level of desperation that had Alex’s heart slamming in his chest, “We’re bringing Max back tomorrow and I’m freaking out and I realized the only person I wanted is you which doesn’t surprise me because I always only want you.”
Alex shook his head before he even finished speaking. “No. You went to Maria. When everything went bad, you went to Maria.” Michael let out a high pitched whine, his hands slipping into his hair and he pulled on it until it was a massive mess. Alex’s hand clutched the chair beside him, hoping to ground himself if only a little bit as he waited.
“Listen, I have been spending months thinking about why I did what I did. And I know the surface level of it, I know that I did it because I wanted something simple and normal and comfortable. The-the problem was that I feel simple and comfortable with you. Not normal, never normal, you make me feel like I’ve been singled out in a crowd by the lead singer of a band who wants to pull me on stage or some shit. You-you notice me. You always notice me and I don’t know why,” Michael rambled, his breath getting quicker and quicker and Alex was sure his empathy was written all over his face, “But, see, m-my problem was that, yeah, I couldn’t separate you from my trauma and you knew that and it sucks but it’s what it was. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to even if I wanted you when I was hurting. But it goes deeper than that.
“I was talking to Mimi and, and she kept asking me why I was hiding. And I didn’t get it, I thought she was calling me out for being an alien or something. That wasn’t it. I-I am hiding. I’m hiding from my trauma, from you. But that’s the thing. I can’t hide from you. You’re always there, you always know. I can lie to everyone except for you. That doesn’t make you bad for me. That makes you the person I need more than anything. That makes you the most important thing in the world. You can’t and won’t put up with my lying, but I don’t have to explain because you know. You know, Alex. You know. You know. You know.”
Alex took a few steps towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hug. Michael slipped into it easily, wrapping his arms around him tightly and trying his best to steady his breath.
“Does your girlfriend know you’re here?” Alex whispered, cradling him close. Michael breathed him in slowly.
“No,” Michael said before quickly backtracking, “No, she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Oh,” Alex hummed, slipping his fingers into his hair, “She’s not?”
“I am yours and you are mine, remember?”
Alex slowly started tugging the man towards the couch to lay down, his words making it easier.
“Can we go to bed, please?” Michael asked softly. Alex took a deep breath but nodded. This felt like a cruel trick. This all felt too easy. But Michael still touched him like it was real and, as they stripped down and crawled into bed together, he cuddled up to him like it was real.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Alex whispered, combing through Michael’s curls as they lay beneath the sheets. Michael’s cheeks were splotchy and his eyes had been closed since he got into bed. He relaxed a little more each time. Alex tried to stroke some calmness into him.
“Huh?”
“I know you, Michael,” Alex told him, dragging idle fingertips across every ridge of his body, “Somethings wrong. This isn’t normal nerves. I know how you act when you think you’re gonna fail. That’s not what this is.”
Michael slowly opened his eyes and stared at him. Alex almost forgot what was even going on. He was beautiful. He was always beautiful, but, at that moment, he was breathtaking. It felt all too similar to seeing him in the dim blue lights of their reunion. Only this wasn’t any special lighting, it was just Michael in his sweetest form.
“I just want you, Alex. Is it that hard to accept?” he whispered and Alex didn’t know how to say yes.
So he moved closer, pressing his nose next to Michael’s. He looked between his eyes and his lips before eventually closing the space between them. It had been so, so, so long since he got one of those heavenly kisses. Despite the fact there was clearly something wrong, Michael welcomed the kiss with an open mouth and a firm grip on his hips.
Alex wasn’t a fan of the term ‘make love’. It sounded gross and it was just much easier to use fuck or sex instead. Though, that night he sort of understood what making love actually was. It was connecting in a way that you felt in your bones, in your muscles, in your blood. It was overwhelming, all-encompassing. It was everything. Michael was everything.
“Do you still have it?” Michael whispered sometime after, completely nuzzled into Alex’s body like he was made to fit there. Alex breathed easy, running his hands through his hair as he held him close.
“Of course I do. We made a promise.”
“I broke it.”
“So did I, but we still made it.”
It was hard to remember a time when they’d been so stupidly in love to promise to be together forever. That was before the prospect that they could possibly go through anything more challenging than a homophobic father wielding a hammer. That was supposed to be the worst of it. How stupid they’d been.
“Do you ever memorize me?”
Alex hummed and while his body screamed ’yes, every inch’, he simply asked, “What do you mean?”
“Like… Whenever you would come home to me between deployments, I would make a point to memorize every part of your body,” Michael told him so honestly. It made Alex’s head spin and his stomach ache. Something was so wrong. Michael was always one to admit hard things, but this was on another level. This was specific. This was a warning. “I never want to forget. I got so good at it that I know where every single one of your scars are. I could read them like I read the stars.”
Alex squeezed him.
“Do you think we can make it, Alex? Do you think we can come back from everything and be happy together?” Michael asked into the night. Again, Alex didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to answer. He couldn’t lie and say yes when he had no idea. They had to wait.
It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning, when Michael’s tears wet Alex’s collarbone, that he asked again.
“What’s wrong?” Alex asked, “Tell me. I’ll fix it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I love you, Alex, I love you so much that it hurts,” Michael said, sniffling and wiping his eyes, “I’m scared of what’s gonna happen.”
“You’re gonna be okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m just so tired. I just want it to end so I can be okay. I’m so tired of being scared. I just want to be okay,” Michael said weakly, his voice shaky and tired. Alex held him tighter, trying to will away the demons that he wouldn’t specify. “Can you promise that you’ll make sure that it ends?”
“I promise.”
-
“You’re a real sleeping beauty, Guerin.”
Alex rubbed his eyes hard, his chest aching as it had been for days. It was officially fourteen days without Michael Guerin and it hadn’t gotten any easier. He hated leaving the cave because the idea of Michael being alone, naked, and dead in a place he didn’t want to be made Alex sick. Though, it made him sicker to know that the people who were meant to care about him were going on with life while they waited for Max to be good enough to bring him back.
“I keep trying to wake up like this is a nightmare and I’m going to open my eyes and you’re going to be lying beside me,” Alex whispered, letting out a soft breath as another wave of tears hit him. He didn’t know how he had any left. “I-I keep trying to wake up, Michael, and I can’t seem to do it. Because this obviously is a nightmare. This isn’t real.”
He looked up and let the tears fall. He didn’t give a shit who might see. He just wanted Michael.
“We could’ve made it, you know? We could’ve fixed this. I love you so, so much, enough for us to make it,” Alex said, his voice cracking as he looked back at the beautiful, beautiful man in stasis. He looked at peace which made it easier to look at him. “I hate myself for not telling you that. I’ve spent so fucking long being scared to tell you how I feel and… and I keep thinking that if I was just honest, you wouldn’t have done what you did. You were asking me for a reason to live and I… Fuck, Michael, I didn’t give you one. I thought I had time.”
Alex moved closer to the pod, touching it as best he could. He wished so badly that he could reach inside and hold him again. He felt cheated and wronged that he didn’t get to touch him one last time. They’d rather him be cold and alone than held for a moment. He deserved to be fucking held. He died for them and they wouldn’t even let him be held.
“I still have it,” Alex whispered, pulling on the chain around his neck that had the handmade ring on it. He’d stopped wearing it whenever Michael had gotten with Maria, he saw no point to it. Now he saw every point to it. He had Michael’s ring on it as well now, the two burning against his chest as they begged to be put on the fingers they belonged on. “I promised you I did. I had to search for yours, though. It was under your pillow back at the airstream. Why’d you keep it there?”
Going to the airstream had been borderline traumatizing for Alex. It all looked like Michael had just been there, like he expected to come back. His bed wasn’t made, there was a box of macaroni in the cabinet, there were rolls of toilet paper left. It screamed Michael and it felt like it was meant to just be temporary. Temporary like Isobel had said.
Except, once Alex looked a little closer, it became clear that Michael had no intention for this to be temporary. The box of macaroni had expired two weeks before and it clearly had been there for awhile. There were no other perishables in the vicinity, like he had used it all up. He’d let his gas tank run out in the truck and all the gas cans were empty. His bunker was neatly organized in a way it never was, all of his research stacked and labeled. He’d given his resignation to Sanders. It was final. Everything felt final.
Alex had crawled into the bed of the airstream, desperate to seek any type of comfort that it might’ve given him. He wanted to get closer to Michael again, but it almost did more damage than it helped. He spent hours in there, crying and inhaling his scent that was on borrowed time. Soon it would stop smelling like him. It made it so much worse.
It felt like a battle every time he questioned if he should stay by the pod or not. Deep inside he knew Michael didn’t want to be in there. Michael had made sure he had everything squared away so no one would have to deal with it when he was gone. He didn’t want to be there. Staring at him like he was the experiment he’d tried so hard not to become felt cold and cynical. But, then again, leaving him alone felt worse. Michael didn’t want this, so why would Alex let him be alone in it?
“God, I’m so sorry. I should’ve stopped them. I don’t know how to help now,” Alex groaned, resting his forehead against the bright light of the pod. It hurt his eyes, but it made him feel closer to him. “I wish you would’ve just told me everything that was about to happen so I would’ve been prepared.”
He wanted nothing more than to go back and fix it. He needed to curl up with him, he needed to hold him. He needed to soak it all in again. He didn’t get enough. They promised each other a life and he didn’t get that. He got cheated out of that life. It wasn’t fair.
“I know you don’t want to come back,” Alex sniffled, his voice weaker and weaker by the minute, “But could you for just a minute? Could you let me hold you again and let me make sure you know that you’re loved? I’m so scared that you left without knowing. Did you know? Were you sure that I love you? I love you so much that it hurts.”
Michael didn’t budge, didn’t blink, didn’t move. Nothing happened. It wasn’t going to happen. No matter how much it hurt, Alex was going to make sure that he got what he wanted. If he could do anything, he could do that.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you. I promise.”
-
“You’re really going, huh?”
Alex looked towards the ground as he fingered the wood in his pocket, trying hard to ignore the sniffling coming from the other boy. He didn’t want to make Michael cry. They’d barely been in a relationship for two months and they’d already had way more crying and pain than normal two-month relationships.
“I don’t have a choice,” Alex said, “My dad made me sign. If I don’t go, I could get arrested.”
“I know,” Michael laughed, “I did my research. I hope you have fun in San Antonio.” That was enough to make Alex cross the space between them, grabbing his soft cheeks in his hands.
“Hey, I’ve got you. It’s okay, we’re gonna be okay, I promise,” Alex gushed, relaxing a little more whenever Michael’s hands draped around his hips and tugged him close.
“How can you be so sure?” he wondered. Alex moved in closer until Michael’s back hit the side of the truck. It earned the faintest of smiles on the boy’s face regardless of how sad he looked.
“Because you give me a reason to come home,” Alex whispered and Michael smiled a little more. Alex pressed soft, repetitive kisses to his lips and cheeks until the small smile broke into something brighter.
“You think I’m important enough to come home to?” Michael asked. Alex slipped his hands into his curls, breathing him in slowly. God, he was perfect. He was so, so perfect. Maybe it was too soon, but Alex loved him.
“You are the only thing I need,” he promised, “I am yours and you are mine.” Michael moved in for the kiss this time. It was slow, rocking back and forth as they tried to keep their balance despite the need to get closer and closer and closer.
Michael’s bandaged hand slipped beneath Alex’s shirt, pressing into the small of his back. Alex was the one to move into the bed of the truck. Soft kisses got deeper, gentle touches got needier. The stars were shining brighter than ever and they seemed to align in just the proper way that Alex needed them to. They always did whenever he was alone with Michael.
“Hey,” Alex whispered as he pulled away, nude bodies pressed together without shame, “I got you something.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause I can.”
Alex kept one hand on Michael as the other one went to find the ring in the pocket of his jeans. It wasn’t anything special or fancy, he didn’t even have a box, but it reminded him of Michael. It was a thin wooden band with intricate writing in a language that he had gotten years prior at a Renaissance Festival that Maria and Mimi had dragged him to. He had been drawn to it, regardless of the fact it had been too big for him to wear at the time. The lady at the booth had told him the language was lost to the stars. It seemed right for it to go safely to Michael.
“Think of it like this,” Alex started as he watched Michael stare at it with curious eyes, carefully pushing it onto the other boy’s finger, “This is a promise I’ll come home to you. As long as you have it, then you know I’m with you.”
“A promise we’ll be together forever?”
“As long as you’ll let me have you.”
“I don’t have one to give you.”
“I don’t need one.”
“You’re getting one.”
Alex smiled and moved in closer for another kiss, feeling the ring press into the back of his neck as Michael’s hand moved there. He kissed his promises into his skin, promises of a future and a tomorrow and a forever of this, of them.
Michael approached him two days later with a ring made of metal, markings just as intricate that he’d made with things he found in the scrapyard. He’d pressed it into Alex’s skin with the same promises his kisses made and it made it a million times harder and a million times easier to board a plane and leave him.
-
“Alex, what are you doing?”
Alex ignored the voices as he knelt beside the lifeless body of the man he loved. They’d all done him wrong, he just wanted to give him what he wanted just once. He had melted enough silver to cover his hands, to pull him out of the pod.
“I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you,” Alex promised, finally, finally, cradling Michael’s cheek in his hands again. His body was horrifically cold, but that was okay. It had to be okay.
Footsteps sounded.
“I swear to God, if you come any closer to me, I will kill you,” Alex threatened, sheer honesty in his voice that was enough to make whoever it was stop in their tracks. He focused more on Michael, leaning down to kiss his cheek because he deserved it. Alex didn’t know exactly what he felt about the afterlife. He had no idea if Michael’s soul was just floating around, waiting to be thrown into a new body, or if he was somewhere else entirely, or if he was just gone, but he wanted to make sure that if he was watching, he saw himself get one last kiss.
Alex wrapped him up tightly in the blanket he’d laid out, swaddling him like a baby. Michael liked to be wrapped up, to be held and warm and caressed. He would appreciate this. He would.
“Alex, what are you doing with him? We need to put him back in the pod!” Isobel snapped and now she sounded emotional. Now she sounded like she cared. It had been weeks without a care, but now that Alex was doing what he wanted, now she cared?
“He doesn’t want that,” Alex said simply. He didn’t want to argue, not right now. He just wanted to bury Michael so that they could stop this bullshit and move on.
“You don’t know what he wants, Alex!” Maria yelled. She was crying. He could hear it in her voice.
“I know more than you do about it. He told me he just wants it to be over. He told me,” Alex said, unable to take his eyes off Michael’s features. They seemed so soft and boyish in the dim light, like he was looking at the 17-year-old he’d fallen in love with. It felt like a joke.
“Alex,” Kyle said softly, “Come on, let’s not do this. Let’s put him back and talk.” Alex was getting more and more angry by the minute. Why were they all here? They hadn’t come to visit him, why were they here now?
“I’m going to bring him back, Alex,” Max started this time, his voice gruff and unwavering, “I just need to wait until the next storm.”
“Why?” Alex snapped, finally looking at them. They all looked on different levels of horrified except for Kyle and Max, the two with the training to not be horrified. “Why are you going to bring him back? So you can die again? So you can die and he’ll feel like he died for no reason? So he can be miserable and regretful and depressed? Why do you want that for him?”
“I’m not going‒”
“You are though! That’s what this is! You’re trying to create this never-ending cycle of death that he doesn’t want to be apart of! He just wanted it to end, he just wants to be at peace!” Alex yelled, tears coming without much of a warning, “Why can’t you let him be at peace?”
“You’re being selfish, Alex!” Liz said strongly and Alex could feel his body shaking with anger, “You can’t keep him dead just because you think you know what he wants!”
“Oh my god, you are all so fucking entitled,” Alex groaned, turning his attention back to Michael. He grabbed his hand, holding it tightly and tried not to let it hurt so much that he didn’t hold back. “None of you even bothered to notice him. He knew he was going to die. He made sure everything was going to be okay when he did because he wanted it to be the end. He-he came to me and asked me to promise. And I promised.”
“What, Alex?” Maria asked, “What did you promise?”
“That it’d be over.”
Alex brought his hand to his lips, kissing his fingers and his palm and was pleased to feel it heat up a little bit due to his breath. It helped him relax.
“Alex, please,” Isobel said, softer now. Less angry. More desperate. “He’s my brother. Please don’t force this to be it.”
“Why do you care?” Alex asked, laughing dryly as he pressed Michael’s hand into his cheek. “Why do any of you care? He’s been dead for weeks and none of you gave a shit. You all went on like it was fine, like… like he didn’t matter. He matters. He fucking matters.”
“We did care, Alex!” Isobel said, her voice thick with tears, “We just were going to bring him back! Why won’t you let us bring him back?!”
“I just don’t understand,” Alex whispered, tucking the blanket around Michael a little tighter, “When Isobel was sick and in the pod, you were all frantic. When Max was dead and in the pod, you were all so desperate to figure it out. I don’t understand why he didn’t get that. He spent so much of his life feeling like he wasn’t as important and all you did was prove him right. He sacrificed himself so you could all have Max and you can’t even respect that. You can’t even respect him.”
“Oh my god, we only didn’t stress as much because we knew Max could bring him back! What don’t you get about that?!” Isobel screamed. Alex shook his head, taking a deep breath. He felt guilty when he did that. He wondered if Michael missed the sensation, wherever he was now.
“He just wanted you to have Max back,” Alex said, shaking his head, “He just wanted it to be over.”
“Alex,” Max pleaded, “Just let us bring him back.”
“What the fuck aren’t you understanding? He doesn't want that! He didn’t want to be in that damn pod! You’re so fucking hell-bent on dying like a martyr that you can’t comprehend the idea that someone else might be okay giving his life.” Alex shook his head, taking a deep breath as he touched Michael’s cheek again. “He felt like he was so much less important than you guys. He really did.” Alex closed his eyes. “God, I love him so much. He didn’t even know.”
“I don’t believe you,” Maria said strongly, “I don’t believe he told you that. He-he was happy. We were happy.”
“Happiness has nothing to do with it,” Alex whispered, “He just wanted it to be over. He thought it’d be easier to just let himself leave so you guys could be okay. He wanted everyone to be okay.”
Michael had just seemed to miss the part where Alex still needed him.
“He’s my boyfriend, Alex! I know him!”
Alex cracked a smile and let out a soft laugh. That sounds about right. He didn’t fault Michael for lying to him. He figured he would lie too if he knew he was going to die and didn’t want to leave people being angry at him. He just wanted a few hours with the person he loved most without all the bullshit. Alex understood that so well.
“Maybe,” Alex said, “But he’s mine.”
No one said anything for a minute and Alex wished they would leave him alone. He wanted to lay beside him for a moment before he put him in the backseat of the truck and buried him outside the cabin. That felt like a good place for him. Then they could visit him and he could make sure no one dug him up.
“So, what, we’re just going to let Alex take him away?” Isobel asked, crying and stumbling over her breaths, “We’re just going to believe him?”
“I… I think he’s right, Iz,” Kyle said softly and she scoffed, “Look, Michael made sure everything was in order before he did this and he made it clear that he had to be the one to bring Max back, not you. I think that was the plan from the beginning.”
“So, what? He just didn’t want to say goodbye?” Liz asked. There was silence and Alex decided he didn’t care what they thought about him cuddling up to Michael anymore. He had the opportunity to say goodbye to everyone and the only person he reached out to was Alex. He wanted Alex.
“Fuck, Alex, stop,” Maria nearly whined, but he ignored her as he cuddled up to the lifeless love of his life.
He breathed slowly and closed his eyes, blocking out the idea that anyone might be there. It was just him and Michael. No one else mattered.
After a moment of just lying there, Alex seemed to remember the rings around his neck. It seemed right for Michael to be buried with his. He managed to get the ring off the chain without moving far from Michael’s body. He slipped the ring onto his left ring finger, watching it fit like a glove on the finger it had never been able to fit on before. It made Alex smile. Maybe something had come out of Max’s thoughtless healing. He could finally wear his ring where it was meant to be worn.
“I am yours and you are mine,” he whispered softly, kissing the ring on his finger before looking at his face. Even dead, Michael was beautiful. He was thoughtless, effortlessly, horrifically beautiful. Alex touched his head again, bringing him closer. Their foreheads pressed together, their noses too, and Alex wondered how he managed to even smell like himself still. It was a gift.
Slowly, Alex put his lips on Michael’s. It was stupid and it was reckless, but he needed it. He needed that one last kiss. Every single goddamn time he kissed Michael Guerin, he was never allowed to know when it would be the last one for awhile.
This time he could be sure.
He could hear Maria crying when he did it, he could hear Kyle telling him to stop, he could hear everything, but he chose not to. He chose not to focus on anything that wasn’t Michael. Michael’s cold lips that got warmer the longer he held the kiss, Michael’s soft hair that curled around his fingers so that he wouldn’t let go, Michael’s everything.
Because this was it.
Because he would be in the ground.
Because this was their last goodbye.
“Goodnight, Michael,” Alex whispered into his mouth, “I love you.”
And that was it.
And that was it.
And that was it.
And that was‒
“Alex?”
#malex#malex fic#alex manes#alex manes fic#michael guerin#michael guerin fic#roswell new mexico#roswell new mexico fic#rnm#rnm fic#my fic#i'm sorry this is so painful#true loves kiss is one hell of a drug
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